An entrance to my fears
A look into the dark edges
Chills, screams, and tears
My sleep slings me into what trenches

Trapped in my menacing mind
Reality twisting into a paradox
Reminding me through the confine
Fearful of the disturbing faux

The shadows reach for the soul
This treachery haunts my heart
The feeling of separating my skull
My memories ripping me apart

It takes your deepest senses
Manipulates your faintest thoughts
Developing a world of consequences
Twisting your psych into tight knots

A dark room filled up
The shadows stretching
Like a full cup
In the darkest etching

The aroma of ink
The crumble of paper
The eyes that sink
The dusty vapor

The click of a pen
The bright desktop light
The typing again
The inscribing of graphite

Would you sink into the sand
or could you remain even on shaky ground?
On the elevation, could you stand?
When your hands touch the sky, can you stay earthbound?

If your entirety builds around others
are you those that you lean on?
Are your choices and mistakes yours or another's?
Are you a king or a pawn

Why do they expect me to be them,
when I want to be myself?
Why should I be another and not be mayhem?
How can you worship one and never accept yourself?

Why is it that you don't exist in my mind
When I see people why are they just shapes
My thoughts, why are they shackled in a selfish bind
How do I uncover my empathetic eyes behind drapes

I so badly wish to be a good person just once
Yet one moment of right is delved in false intentions
All of my attempts to be a hero are only theatric stunts
Why do I constantly and carelessly crave attention

Where did my wretched personality begin
Could I have been born covered in expectations
Did I see their lightened gaze and grow dim
So absorbed in what they say I can become, stuck in elevation

By pushing everyone away did I raise the anchor
Or did I trap myself in a shadowed cage called loneliness
Was all my love, kindness, and joy the ploy of a faker
Possibly a plea for some guide of life; though useless

Why is it so hard to be great and virtuous
I may never know after detaching parts of me
Why is being great compared to goodness so arduous
An evil king who kills and the poor people who die innocently
I wish I'd chosen the ladder

A brittle bundle of thatch
One single flamboyant flower
Diamond specs, a rust hatch
Tiny mouse homes by a tower

Illusioned by the despaired
Hope built upon the carcasses
Hidden; stood with the faired
Poor together empty of narcissist

Escaped the dark of plagued
Raven cures tenacious light
A sin burnt flakes baked
A creamy ooze soaks a bite

Gift lively cater the eyes
The lonely item lost or stolen
A sharp needle pierced lies
Dully used as fools golden